Into the Eye of the Storm
by KMD88
Summary: Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hayden Waltham is known for her knowledge in Norse Mythology. After helping to save Asgard, Hayden returned to Earth with a new mission revolving around Arthurian legends back to Merlin himself. With rumors that Loki is back on Earth, Hayden must chose between chasing the storm or to wait for the calm that every storm brings. LokixOC. Sequel. Rated M.
1. Chapter One

**A/N**: Hello familiar and new faces! Welcome to In the Eye of the Storm, the sequel to Chasing the Storm. If you haven't read Chasing the Storm (** s/8744533/1/Chasing-the-Storm**) I strongly urge that you do so or you will be confused with the characters and plot line of this story. That being said I decided not to use this as my project for Nanowrimo and instead decided to use original work, which is good news for you guys because I can work on this story until then. But, heads up once November hits the updates may or may not be sparse until Nano is over. In the meantime I just couldn't stay away from Hayden or Loki. So, let's get to it!

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**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything outside of my own characters, which I should hope are fairly obvious. All rights regarding the Marvel universe belongs to Marvel, which I sadly have no affiliations with.

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**Chapter One**

"_Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead_." -Benjamin Franklin

Chanting echoed through the underground citadel. Several men and women clad in robes the color of deadly secrets bowed their head in prayer. Their voices were monotone, speaking in a foreign tongue.

A golden goblet laced with emeralds was passed around to each member filled with sacrificial blood. They brought the substance to their lips, drinking just enough that they could taste the metal liquid slide down their throats. Their voices died after they partook in the drink until the room was filled with silence.

A tall figure cloaked in a similar robe of black stood before them all. He held out his hands, a giant silver ring shaped like a serpent shined in the flickering candle light. At once the small crowd knelt to the ground, resting one hand on the cold floor while the other sat firmly on their knees. One by one they rose their heads, staring at the man before him.

"Brothers," he boomed, his voice soft and hard to hear despite the echo that filled the room, "my sisters, I welcome you to the return of the Dark Knighthood. It has been a long time since I have seen your familiar faces."

His clouded blue eyes scanned the crowd, a frown deepened in his weathered face. "It is a shame so few of you have come home. Nonetheless, it shows the true loyalty of our family."

With a long sweep of his arm he ordered the crowd to rise. In unison they stood, gathering their hands in the sleeves of their robes.

"I called this meeting," he continued, "for our secrets have been leaked. We must eradicate those who chose not to show today for it is our secrets that bond us."

A loud clanking echoed throughout the room. The members of the Dark Knighthood turned their heads at the sound. From the shadows emerged a knight in heavy armor that shined blacker than their souls against the light that spilled around them. In his hand he held a lance that looked far too heavy to hold with one hand, yet the knight swung it carelessly between his claw-like gloves.

The knight stopped before them, standing beside their leader. He turned to face them, placing the lance pointy end down on the stone floor. It echoed, reverberating through the unnerved bones of the crowd before him.

The leader of the Dark Knighthood smirked, placing his ringed hand on the man's shoulder. "I present to you, the Black Knight, our savior in this crusade."

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_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

I snapped my eyes open. _Knock! Knock! Knock!_ A groan slid from between my lips as I rolled over to look at the alarm clock. It changed to 4:55 meaning I still had five minutes before it went off.

The knocking persisted. With a loud huff I ripped the stiff blankets off of my legs, and walked toward the door of the hotel room. Slipping my arms through the terracotta robe that I picked off the floor near my bed, I yawned, wondering who could be at my door at so early.

In all honesty, it really shouldn't have surprised me. My fingers twisted the lock open, the door swung open as one of my partners, Agent Ward, burst inside. Without asking to come in, or a simple hello, he rushed toward the small kitchen and tossed a stack of papers onto the counter.

"Good morning to you too," I muttered under my breath, shutting the door with my heel. Scratching the top of my head I slinked into the kitchen, stifling a yawn and set to starting a pot of coffee. "What are you doing here?" I asked as I pulled out a container of some foreign brew that was stocked inside the hotel room cupboards.

Ward glazed me over with his dark brown eyes, taking note of my unkempt state. Chomping on the inside of my cheek I turned my attention on scooping out the crushed beans into a filter. Even though I hadn't been in bed long I knew I had to look like a disaster. Though, I had less time to worry about my looks as the days went on.

The alarm began to echo through the small room, reverberating off the plain white walls that were adorned in cheesy Monet knockoffs. Setting my spoon on to the counter I walked into the doorless bedroom and turned it off. I could hear Ward moving around the kitchen, rifling through papers as his fingers clanged against the fake marble top.

When I returned the coffee light shut off. I began to make myself a cup, not bothering to offer Ward any. He woke up when I still had minutes to spare. He would be lucky if I was nice to him all for the rest of the day.

Just as I began to pour some milk into my cup, Ward tossed a few stapled pieces of paper in my direction. I shut the carton closed, taking the stack of freshly printed papers into my free hand. My eyes skimmed through the numbers and phrases I did not understand resting on a familiar photo.

The man in the picture was tall, and rather lanky with stark ravenesque hair with a shining virid gaze beneath his thick, prominent brows. He was fashionably dressed in a three-piece suit lined with green and a scarf that draped around his neck.

My fingers flew to a necklace that dangled at the bone of my beating chest. The pointed tooth felt cold to my touch despite the fact that I never took it off and it always nestled underneath my tops. Ward made a grunting sound and I looked up, pulling my face into a frown.

"Hmm, just as I thought," he shook his head, then continued, "have you been working with him all this time?"

I dropped my hand from the necklace at my throat and glared. "You know that he is trapped in Asgard and that the portal to Earth has been destroyed." To avoid looking down at the photo I shoved it toward Agent Ward and scoffed, "this is the first I've heard of him being here."

Ward eyed me suspiciously, searching my face for any detection that I was lying. My arms folded against my stomach. He could look all that he wanted, he wouldn't find anything.

"So, you're telling me that your Prince is on Earth and he didn't come to see you?" I let the sting of Ward's words soak through the wound. When I said nothing he gathered his paperwork, shifting through the pages until he found an article that had been clipped from a German magazine. "You don't know anything about this then?"

I hesitated, taking the article from Ward's hands with a huff of air. Exhaling slowly my eyes dropped to the browning paper. I skimmed until I found what it was that Ward was referring to. Over 120 dead, 80 injured throughout Germany due to unseen forces of what some skeptics were calling magic. The article made no mention of who or what was the cause behind the attacks.

I pointed the fault in Ward's logic out. He snatched the crinkled article out of my hand, stating, "it's obvious who is behind the attacks. Loki arrived in Germany the same week these attacks happened. I sincerely doubt that this is a coincidence."

My throat felt scratchy, and dry. I tried to cleanse my mouth of the bitter taste that formed along my tongue but it stuck to the roof like peanut butter. Rubbing my tongue along the top of my mouth, I turned my attention to the coffee. Despite feeling uneasy under Ward's scrutinizing gaze, I knew it had to be a mistake.

Even though it felt like decades, mere months ago I was sent to Asgard, a realm of Norse Mythological God's. I was to report back to Director Fury on Earth acting as a liasion between Asgard and what they called Midgard claiming the title of an Agent of Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate. Or, collectively known as S.H.I.E.L.D. which was an underground government organization that dealt with problems normal, every day people wouldn't normally handle. For example cleaning up the mess of an attack three years ago when a deranged god from Norse legends tried to overtake Earth with the help of an alien race.

As punishment the God of Mischief, Loki Laufeyson was drained of his powers until they were obsolete. Without his magic and the portal to Asgard that was destroyed last year he was-as far as I knew-stuck there for the time being, despite his promises to be there for me when I needed him most. I poured the steaming black liquid into the mug, and stirred vigorously with my spoon. It clanked hard against the sides as I wondered why he would be on Earth without so much as a hello. But, if he had been behind the attacks...

I could feel the color drain from my face. With trembling fingers I brought the shaky cup to my lips. The hot liquid rushed down my throat, soothing the scratchy dryness on contact. At least one thing was taken care of that morning, the next was to figure out if the man in the photo was really Loki or if it was a disguise.

Ward briefly knew of my time on Asgard. Unfortunately it was no secret that while I was there I had indulged in a love affair with Loki. Ever since he had found out he seemed suspicious of everything that went on, as if I were some how responsible. So, it stood to reason that he would instantly assume that whatever trouble Loki was about to stir up I was part of it.

But, I wasn't. I hadn't spoken to Loki since leaving Asgard. As the months turned I began to wonder if I would ever see him again. Loki had done a lot of awful things before but I refused to believe that he came to Earth to kill its inhabitants especially if his redemption meant getting his magic back.

I briefly looked up from my coffee, squirming under Ward's hard stare. "Is the stone still-"

"It's safe," Ward gruffed, though his voice had lost its rough edge. "So, if Loki got his powers back it wasn't from that."

I frowned, returning my attention to the warm mug in my shaking hands. It had been an entire season since Loki and I had talked. He seemed to be on the right path. Did he really stray so far in such a short amount of time? My brows pointed together at the stupidity of my question. I would be a fool if I believed that Loki was a perfect saint since my departure.

Still, I couldn't accept that it was him in Germany. It had to be a disguise. Last year I learned first hand all about the trickery of transformation. A power hungry sorceress by the name of Karnilla had used one of her subjects as a pawn in her games, most of which involved taking the form of Loki to play mind games with me. Even though Karnilla and her pet were dead it didn't mean that someone else wasn't capable of transformation either.

After everything that Loki and I had been through I had to believe that there was good in him. And, there was. I had seen it plenty times before. I couldn't explain my reasoning to Ward without earning eye rolls and sighs but I did point out that there was no concrete proof that it wasn't another big player taking on Loki's form.

"What better way to bring fear to the people than under the guise of someone they already fear," I muttered through sips of my cooling coffee. Ward scoffed, and all I could do was glare. He really knew how to get under my skin. "Look, I'm not saying it isn't Loki but there seems to be more proof that it's not him than there being proof that there is. Don't go pointing fingers-especially at me-when all you have are German articles and grainy photos you probably found on google maps."

Ward didn't respond, but he dropped the accusatory looks. We sat in silence while he thumbed at the folder on the counter and I sipped on the remaining contents of my drink. I was half way through fixing another cup when he dramatically sighed, and snapped his papers off the counter.

"Sorry," he mumbled, shoving the papers into the folder.

"It's fine," I replied though my tone suggested I'd much rather hit him upside the head. Shrugging I continued, "we've had a lot of stress and little sleep this past month. It was bound to lash out eventually." Tossing the cup into the sink I thought to myself, though I wish that you'd stop accusing me of every little thing and instead told Ward, "it happens sometimes."

Ward shrugged his broad shoulders, the leather of his jacket squeaked together. "I just don't understand you is all."

I glanced up at him, pursing my lips together. "What do you mean?"

"You're definitely a puzzle, Waltham," was all he replied as he turned to head for the door. Looking over his shoulder he shrugged, "hopefully you're not missing too many pieces."

I watched in stunned silence as he shut the door behind him. The nerve of that guy! How dare he accuse me of participating in delinquent activities and then to call me crazy on top of that! I was going to wring my hands around his neck. Well, I thought with dismay, if I could fit my hands around him. He was built like a god but mortal as they came.

Inhaling deeply, I turned toward the bedroom heading to the adjoint bathroom to take a much needed shower. After crawling around in a cave all day I hadn't exactly gotten all the dirt out from my hair and nails. I was so exhausted that I collapsed onto the bed the moment I arrived to the hotel. Despite the little sleep I had gotten-thank you, Ward-crawling back into bed was the last thing on mind.

My shower was quick, and I collected my damp brown hair into a firm bun. While I typically dressed in business attire the field required less heels and more combat boots. In Asgard I had no need for a uniform, but on Earth while on the field it was imperative that I dressed to be ready to climb a mountain or run from gunslinging tomb raiders at a moments notice.

Nothing but the outline of a stenciled eagle's head on the breast of my dark blue jacket gave away who we worked for. Those who knew what S.H.I.E.L.D. was recognized us right away. But, most of the world's citizens were kept in the dark about our existence no matter how many times superheroes-or supervillains-rampaged on our planet.

Before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. I was just a college grad with a useless degree in Norse Mythology looking for work in the reaching field. S.H.I.E.L.D. approached me after the attacks in a small town in New Mexico where earth soon discovered that we were not alone. At first I had turned them down, too afraid of what joining their faction would mean for me. Not long after New Mexico, an alien race known as the Chitauri, attacked New York under the orders of Loki. It was then that I agreed to join S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks unknowingly aware that I would be sent to Asgard.

However, my being there was no coincidence or luck of the cards. Karnilla, the Queen of Nornheim, had specifically chosen me to be sent to Asgard as she needed a mortal to drink from a cursed spring. Once the mortal drank the waters they were under her full control. Unable to stop myself I became her puppet meant to steal a stone protected by S.H.I.E.L.D.

Once I had learned that every thing I worked for was a lie I decided to try teaching again. But, then Agent Coulson and Director Fury came to me with a secret project that I could only know about should I decide to join. I remembered standing in front of the kitchen table in my small living room in New York stating at the unopened package in my trembling hands. All my life I was scared and naive and weak but I was tired of that little girl wrapped up in her safe cocoon of unpopped bubble wrap. The moment my fingers slid across the flap and I pulled out the contents inside every bubble around me exploded, destroying any protection I had in my little world.

I was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., despite my less than desirable entry into the position. For the past three months I had been pushed, shoved, threatened, shot at and at one point I had been trapped in an underground well with Agent Ward and an agent named Simmons for almost three days. It wouldn't have been so bad if Simmons wasn't a complete mess under stressful situations.

Deep down I knew I was still that scared little girl that went to Asgard as a ploy in some bigger scheme. No matter how many situations I found myself in as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D . I still found that I was constantly doubting my abilities. It didn't help that Ward thought I was practically useless to the team. Three months of working together and he still trusted me about as far as he could throw the hammer of Thor.

Though, I never really blamed him. Ward liked to stick to the books and follow protocol. It was actually something we had in common. But, seeing as I had no formal training other than the year I took to learn some self-defense and gun classes before becoming an official agent, Ward thought of me as a liability. To him I was more work than help, especially when it came to things that revolved around Loki.

While the photo that Ward had shown to me was the first that I had seen there were hushed rumors of his handy work. Still, I refused to believe any of it on the sole purpose that Loki wanted to redeem himself. Coming to Earth to kill off a bunch of Germans wasn't exactly the way to do that, and Loki knew it wasn't. So, it stood to reason that it was someone else.

As I walked through the empty hotel halls I found myself wondering why Ward was even digging up information on Loki. While the attacks in Germany were disturbing-and no doubt agents would be sent to check it out-it wasn't our jurisdiction. Our team, which was made up of six agents-myself included-and a consultant, were sent to Europe with our only mission concerning the activities of The Black Knight.

As far as any of us knew Loki wasn't involved with The Black Knight. And, as far as I was concerned he had no reason to be. We still didn't know much about the medieval villain but we knew enough that he was involved with Arthurian mythology, no where at all connected with Loki. Ward's obsession was only going to have Fury breathing down our necks if he didn't stop focusing on Norse God's and instead focused on the reason as to why we were in a yuppie town in England.

"Ooh, you look rough," frowned Skye, the civilian consultant who Coulson recruited a few weeks before I joined the team.

I didn't know much about her other than her obsession with superheroes tended be a little creepy, and she was really-and I mean really-smart when it came to computers. For the most part we got along.

Skye was lanky and much taller than I was, hovering at least five inches. She tended to wear her long, wavy brown hair down her back but after recent events started to pull it up into a low ponytail that started at her neck. While it took me at least two cups of coffee to even process the morning Skye was always ready to go, as though her body was constantly releasing bursts of caffeine.

Adjusting the cuffs on her button-down plaid shirt, Skye added, "I saw Ward coming out of your room this morning." I groaned, tossing a glance her way. A wide smile overtook her lips and she laughed, "oh please, I don't think Ward would even know what to do with a woman. He's so..." she scrunched her nose, letting the words smother between her lips.

I tried not to laugh, but a snort made its way into the silence. "He decided to try and accuse me about Loki again."

"You mean the attacks in Germany?"

I frowned as we began to descend down the stairs. "You know about that?" Skye nodded. "I don't think it's him. It just doesn't make sense."

Skye shrugged, her hair bounced off her shoulders with each step she took. "Well, I know I don't know him like you do but I don't think it's Loki either."

A little flutter brushed against my chest. "Really?"

Skye nodded, then laughed. "I wouldn't get your hopes up on my account. I'm just a hacking consultant after all. This isn't really my world."

I sighed, stopping just before the last step. Skye turned on her heel, furrowing her thick dark brows. "I think it's safe to say that sooner or later all of this will be part of everyone's world."


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: **Heads up guys, it was brought to my attention by one of the readers that in the first chapter nothing seemed to be moving. While writing the chapter I had a similar feeling but pushed it away because I was just so excited to get started. After rereading the chapter I realized that while it sets up introducing new characters and rehashes what happened in Chasing the Storm it didn't really go anywhere. And, after some discussing with** Vicvic221 it** dawned on me that while I have a few plot bunnies I didn't have anything solid. Now, I do. So I am telling you this because I would suggest going back to the first chapter and reading the new part I put in. It's just the very first section and only a few paragraphs long. I'm definitely glad I added it in and I think you guys will be as well.

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**Disclaimer**: I do not own any content in regards to the Marvel Universe.

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** Chapter Two**

In the midst of the Norwegian city of Tønsberg walked an old fisherman. Every Sunday morning he would go to the pier dumping the unused remains of fish he had caught back into the sea. For fifty-eight years he would visit the pier, no bad weather or illness kept him from doing so.

He took his normal route, swinging his bucket back and forth with hunched over shoulders. A few people greeted him, several stopped to ask him how we was. They never mentioned Lydia, his deceased wife. He always saw it in their faces. The way their eyebrows knotted together, and lips pressed firmly into thin smiles. He missed her every day, but the old man knew that Lydia would not want him to stop feeding the fish at sea. She would have been worried if he stopped...were she still alive to worry.

The old fisherman grunted to himself, and pulled his jacket closer together as the wind bit at his neck. It was rather chilly for a spring breeze. He gazed up to the sky with milky-blue eyes, watching with his mouth wide open at the dark, gray clouds that rolled in the distance headed toward Tønsberg. His shaking hands dropped the bucket at his feet, spilling fish guts all over his green rubber boots.

Lightning struck from several directions, shooting across the sky. People stopped their daily duties to look at the incoming storm. Mothers grabbed their children's hands, rushing them to their vehicles. Couples ran inside nearby shops, while others-like the old man-stared in a transfixed awe.

The storm grew bigger, the thunder rumbled angrily. The old fisherman stepped back, sliding in the spilled contents from his bucket. He fell hard on the ground, bruising his tail bone. A silent scream emitted from his frail lips as a sharp pain shot up his side. From his peripheral he saw a young teenage boy with his parents leave their side to help him from his fall.

His parents yelled at him to come back, calling out his name in high shrills that were cut off from the roaring wind. It whipped violently at the old man's face, blowing the bucket away from him. He struggled to stand, pushing on his palms for support when they strained under his weight and he collapsed. The young boy knelt down, reaching for the old man's elbow, his fingers only inches away when he stopped and stood tall.

Bewildered, the old man turned to where the curly haired boy's brown-eyed gaze stared. His heart pounded hard against his chest as he slowly stared up at a white beam of light that shot from the sky several feet from where they stood. The old man struggled to stand again, and the boy was quick to react helping him to his feet. He clutched onto the teenager's hand as they both stared at a black and white figure descending from the ray of light.

"Det er Gud," whispered the young man, his hands trembling beneath the old fisherman's.

The old man squinted at the figure coming from the sky, wishing he had gotten glasses as Lydia insisted numerous times. Whatever it was he did not think it was God. A coldness spread through his bones, eating at the core of his heart. No, whatever it was it was not God.

"Nikolai!" his father shouted to the boy, waving angrily that he go to them now.

The boy reluctantly slipped his hands from the old man's arm, giving him a sympathetic smile. The old man nodded, turning to sky when a bolt of light flashed their way. Without even thinking the old man pushed forward, shoving the boy into the road. The light shot between them, slamming into a parked truck.

BOOM!

Fire and debris fell from the sky. The boy's mother screamed and the father rushed to his sons side, urging him to stand. His dark eyes widened, and the old man turned to see the figure flying toward them.

The old man crinkled his bushy gray brows when he realized it was a white horse with...wings. Though he noted the sheen along the flanks of the flying beast, like metal. Its eyes were a dark red, almost black and smoke billowed from its nostrils. Atop its back rode a man dressed from head to toe in armor the color of trees murdered from the flames. In his hand he held a lance that looked as if it were painted from the darkest thought of mankind.

The horse landed, smashing hard into the ground. Pieces of cobbled road flew around it, crumbling around its massive hooves. Its rider slid from the saddle, his armor clanking together as he landed. He twisted the large weapon in his hand with ease and strode toward the old man. He snorted through the helmet, smoke poured from the holes. The old man swallowed hard, holding his breath as the knight walked toward the boy and his father.

With gloves made to look like claws he reached out grabbing the boy by the shirt. The father tried to reach for him but was too slow. His mother cried out, sobbing loudly. Turning his head the knight looked to the mother and extended his arm forward, pointing the lance directly at her. A beam of red light shot out, hitting the woman directly in her chest. Silently, she collapsed to the ground.

The father and boy simultaneously stifled gasps, tears streamed down the father's face. However, the young teenage boy stared the knight directly in his covered face. And then he spat.

A low chuckle rumbled from inside the knights armor. "Where is Doctor Connor Waltham?" His voice grated, sounding almost robotic. The boy remained quiet. "It is unwise to not answer me."

"I-I don't know who that is," replied the boy in English, gripping onto the metal hands of the knight.

"He left Tønsberg almost thirty years ago!" shouted the father, his accent thick that he had to repeat himself slower so the knight would understand. "He is not here."

The man dug in his panicked mind, curious as to why the name sounded familiar. He had lived in Tønsberg his entire life, but it was a small city. It would be impossible to know who everyone was. Still the name buzzed in the back of his mind like a persistent fly.

"Then I suppose I have no use for any of you."

The knight pointed the lance at the boys father. A blast of light shot out, hitting the man in his chest. He crumpled to the ground. The teenage boy cried out, but the knight ignored him, turning his lance on to the old man.

"This shall be his sign to come to me," he told the boy, shooting another ray of light directed at the old man.

* * *

"Come on, come on, we've got to go," hurried Ward taking the uneaten bagel from my open mouth and tossing it into the trash. Skye quickly moved her coffee out of his reach as he passed by her, storming toward the hotel lobby doors. He looked over his shoulder and stopped to stare at us with raised brows. "Did you not hear me? We've got to hustle."

"Okay, Rambo, relax," mocked Skye grabbing a bagel off the continental breakfast platter and tossed it my way.

I clumsily caught it, holding the bagel against my chest to keep from dropping it. Smiling, I thanked her. Skye nodded, turning to Ward and shrugged, "it's not like anyone died."

Ward started to speak when the doors behind him swung open and Agent Coulson stepped inside. "Actually someone did die," he informed us. Behind him trailed the remaining members of our team, Agent Fitz, Agent Simmons and Agent May. All of them wore the exactly grim expressions as Coulson continued, "Over 15,000 someones and counting."

Skye instantly pursed her lips together, dropping her gaze into her coffee cup. "I'm sorry," she muttered, tracing her fingers along the rim of the styrofoam cup. "What happened?"

"Early this morning a storm cloud brewed in and from it came a white light. Citizens have explained a winged horse and a man in armor coming from it. He set the entire village of Tønsberg, Norway in flames."

Ward stepped forward, his brows crinkling. "Any idea who it is sir?" He glanced my way then quickly asked, "was it Loki?" I tried my hardest not to scoff but it came out like a choke. Everyone turned their attention on to me. "Do you have anything to say, Agent Waltham?"

I set my bagel down, and swallowed hard. Now was not the time to remain quiet. "Loki wouldn't burn a town down," I told them thinking of the preferred weapon that the deceased sorceress Karnilla had used against I grabbed at my arm, adding, "besides the citizens described him as a man in armor riding a winged horse."

"Odin's horse was a winged horse," pointed out Ward, "and Loki wears armor, we've seen it."

It took all my energy not to roll my eyes to the back of my head. " Sleipnir does not have wings and he had eight legs. I am pretty sure if it was Odin's horse someone would have mentioned that. Also, Thor wears armor, and he is also Odin's son, why not accuse him?"

"Because Thor didn't destroy New York city in an attempt to take over the world."

"Whoa, bad blood here and getting way off topic," muttered Skye through sips of her coffee.

Coulson nodded, "Skye's right. You guys can hash this out later while you're in Tønsberg to figure out what happened. The rest of us will continue to scourge England in search of the Ebony Blade."

"What!?" Ward and I asked in unison.

"I thought that wasn't our jurisdiction," I frantically spoke, trying to think of how to get out of this position. "That's why we won't help with the attacks in Germany, and the only reason we're here is because we have permission."

Coulson smirked, nodding his balding head once. "We have permission."

Ward began to shake his head. "No, no, no, send me with Agent May then. She has way more field experience than Agent Waltham does, especially if it's going to be dangerous in Tønsberg."

I murmured in agreement. "I also would be more use to you in England with my knowledge of Arthurian legends." Okay, so I didn't know as much as I did when it came to Norse Mythology but it was apparent that I knew more than the rest of the team. "I can-"

"Yes, but you are also the only one who can speak Norsk," pointed out Coulson with a smile.

"A lot of the people in Norway speak English," I informed him crossing my arms against my chest.

Coulson shrugged, pursing his lips into a small smile. "Still, it's an order."

Skye gave me a sympathetic glance and I nodded a silent thank you. Holding out my arms I asked, "what do you need us to do?"

* * *

Agent Ward and I boarded one of S.H.I.E.L.D's private jets. It wasn't as impressive or as big as the one given to Agent Coulson but it was much nicer than taking a commercial flight. I nestled into the leather couch, pulling my feet up into my lap and began to read the file report Coulson had given us for the tenth time.

Just as I began to start from the beginning Ward plopped beside me, staring hard into his phone. "So, it looks like we'll need to fly to Moss Airport in...R..Ryg-Rig-gee," he lamely finished hurrying on with the rest if the directions that Coulson had sent him, "then we'll take a rented car to Lork...Lork-o-eye-leen..." he furrowed his dark brows together, "Lork-ooh-elle-ellen."

I snatched his phone from his limp grasp and read the text outloud. " We need to fly to Moss Airport in Rygee and from there we rent a car to Lorkollen where we can take a ferry to Tønsberg." I exhaled loudly and tossed him his phone, returning to the files in my lap.

"Thanks," he muttered slipping his phone into the breast of his leather jacket. "How did you even learn to speak Nordic?"

"Nordic isn't a language," I told him, realizing my voice was much more acidic than I meant it. Blowing out a puff of air I faced him, continuing in a much softer tone, "my father and mother study Norse mythology and they insisted that I learn the languages of Nordic countries like Norwegian for example. I also did a lot of traveling with my father throughout Europe so that helped."

I lowered my gaze and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. My father's death still hadn't settled and talking about him for too long tended to upset me. I still was angry with myself that I wasn't able to say goodbye to him.

Blinking back the tears, I turned back to Ward and continued, "I also picked up a few on my own in college and did a lot of studying abroad."

Ward pulled a face, raising his brows to his forehead. "Do you think it's weird that we've been working together for three months and everyone is still a stranger to one another?"

I frowned at his sudden question, pondering on it considering it hadn't really crossed my mind before. "I think we're all a little too busy looking for the bad guy to bond over vodka."

"Vodka drinker, you?"

My face flushed and I quickly looked back to the files, clearing my throat. "N-no," I stuttered, "I just said the first thing to came to my mind."

Images raced through my mind like a film reel flickering across a giant, white screen. Loki and I had shared a few drinks when he came to stay with me on Midgard before my father had passed away. His choice of poison had been vodka that night and needless to say it didn't end well.

Though thinking of vodka made me think of Loki and when I thought of Loki my heart would cringe, then a sour taste would fill my mouth. My mind would burn with the same questions over and over again like a video set to loop. Why didn't he make contact like he promised? Why didn't he show when I called for him? Had he already moved on to someone else? And, then soon followed the reprimanding voice that sounded an awful lot like my mother. I was being foolish to think that Loki would actually care.

I swallowed hard, thumbing at the edges of the folder in my lap. I was being over-emotional, of course I knew that he cared. He had asked me to stay on Asgard with him, and sacrificed getting his powers back in order to protect me. It wasn't as if they exactly had telephones in Asgard.

"...and that's what I think." I blinked, not realizing that Ward had been talking in the first place. "But, let's see what your take is on this."

"Uh-"

Boom!

"What was that!?" I cried out, scrambling alongside Ward to the window.

We both peered outside the thick glass, staring down at the sky below us. Though it was hard to see a distinct cloud of red and black rose from the ground. Another explosion shot off nearby, then another.

Ward pulled out his cellphone and punched in a few numbers on the dial pad. He brought it to his ear, keeping his gaze on the exploding city below us. There was a muffled greeting on the other line followed by Ward's imperious tone, "where are we?"

I leaned in closer to hear the pilot answer, "we're just above Kristiansand."

Ward looked at me and I shrugged. Just because I spoke the language didn't mean I knew where every city was. "How far are we from Rygge?"

"Not long but if these explosions continue we may have to land."

"No, we cannot land. We we're given specific orders to fly to Rygge," Ward hissed into the phone.

"Look Ward I'm not about to let us all go down because of your penchant for being a brown noser. If we land, we land."

The line went dead and Ward tightened his grip on his phone. He inhaled deeply, and slipped it back into the pocket of his coat. Licking his lips he turned from the explosions below and plopped down onto the couch, rubbing his temples.

I took one last glance out the window, and walked to join him. He dropped his hands into his lap and looked at me from the side. "If you are so certain that these attacks aren't from Loki then who do you think is behind this?" Chewing on the bottom of my lip I handed him the files that Coulson had given us. "I've read this like ten times."

"I think you should probably call Coulson."

"Why?"

"Because I'm positive that the Black Knight already has the Ebony Blade." I inhaled deeply trying not to let my nerves get the best of me. "And, I think he's using it for these attacks."

Ward shook his head rummaging through the papers. "Not possible. Coulson said that the sword was spotted-"

"Spotted," I insisted, "but not actually seen. Rumors, hearsay, what have you but these attacks sound an awful lot a like what would happen if the true owner of the sword was in possession of it."

Ward leaned back into the cushions of the couch. He tossed the files onto the table and spread his arms against the couch's back. Shrugging, he made a face then taunted, "tell me what you know."

"I thought you read the file ten times already," I glared, resisting the urge to smirk.

Agent Ward held up his hands in defense. "Yeah but I want to know what a mythology expert has to say on the subject."

I chewed on my lip deciding not to correct him on the fact that I wasn't an expert on all mythologies. Hell, after visiting Asgard I felt like a sham calling myself one in regards to Norse Mythology. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I delved into what I thought Ward might need to know.

"Okay," I breathed leaning forward and spreading out the files onto the table, "when Arthur became King of Camelot he created the Knights of the Round Table. A lot of scholars argue how many knights were seated at the table. The number ranges anywhere from twelve to a hundred-and-fifty, but it is a general agreement that because it was a _round table _the number of loyal knights was considered infinite."

"How poetic," grunted Ward.

I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. "History is poetic," I told him, shuffling through the stack of pages until I found a crude drawing of a man with a large nose and curly hair to his shoulders. "So, this is Sir Percy of Scandia, one of Arthur's knights and the first Black Knight."

Ward frowned, staring hard at the photo. "So, he betrayed Arthur?"

I shook my head. "He found the Holy Grail and died protecting Camelot when Arthur's cousin, the son of Morgan Le Fay, Mordred stabbed him in the back."

"So he was an honorable man?" Ward sighed, rubbing his hands against his face. "These attacks don't sound like the work of a man who found the Holy Grail."

"Stay with me," I urged, sifting through the files until I found a photo of what the Ebony Blade might have looked like. "So, Merlin crafted the sword from a meteorite, enchanting it so that it was indestructible. Legends also say that it can slice through generally any physical form, cut through mystical barriers and it has been said to absorb all forms of energy."

"But you don't know if that's true or not?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.

I sucked on the inside of my cheek. "Not really. It's sort of hard to tell what is myth and what is history now. But, I'm thinking that someone found the blade and is using it for evil rather than good like Sir Percy did."

"Let me get this straight, you are telling me that someone else is posing as the Black Knight?"

I nodded, then frowned. "Well, more like they took on the name of the Black Knight."

Ward rubbed the side of his jaw with his knuckles, his gaze hard on the papers spread out on the table before us. "I'll let Coulson know what you pieced together but I think we should head to Tønsberg and gather what we can before making any rash decisions."

I nodded, gathering the files and stacking them neatly together. "Fair enough," I replied though I couldn't help but worry that if we didn't act soon something bigger than the last attack would happen next.

* * *

** A/N: ** Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as you did Chasing the Storm. Also, special shoutout to OhHaiSerah for making the beautiful front cover!

* * *

** Reviews**

**Marie Allen**: No worries, it happens! Haha and don't worry, Loki always has something up his sleeve. ;)

**Shibbielove**: Thank you for letting me ruin your life. Haha and that's great! Congrats!

**kieekaa**: You'll get your chapters when you get your chapters who'ore.

**boca3**: Thank you for sticking with it!

**ReadingConundrum**: oh thanks so much! And don't worry I have no plans on doing that because well you said it perfectly.

**Hayden**: Thanks! And you don't really have to watch it. I just like the characters from the show and incorporated them into this story, but other than that it's not really that tied in. Still, it's a great show. I love it.

**OhHaiSerah**: Ugh. So would I.

**StarletSpotlight**: haha I guess you could say that.

**titaniumalloyman**: First of all, love the name haha second of all, thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hopefully you like ITEOS just as much. (:

**Why Fireflies Flash**: I have no self control and just couldn't leave Loki and Hayden just yet. Though I am having fun with When They Fall. Haha, maybe I'm just psychic and don't want you to be bored. Spoiler alert: I'm not.


	3. Chapter Three

** Chapter Three**

The smell of burning rubber and decaying bodies filled the air. Flames scorched the countryside, eating away at the German village below. Amidst the roaring fire emerged a knight clad in black. The flames licked at his suit, hissing in pain as they extinguished upon contact.

With ease he leapt upon the back of his bioengineered steed of silver and white, Aragorn. The beast reared back its head, snorting charcoal clouds from its nostrils. Its magnificent wings unfolded from within, expanding in sections until they were completely stretched to their full wingspan.

Loki watched the Black Knight take off into the sky, disappearing into a beam of light that shot from the clouds. The brewing storm scattered mixing with the fumes from the rising smoke that spewed from the hungry flames. In the distance sirens wailed as firefighters and volunteers worked to put out the spreading fires.

Loki was ripped away from the scene, thrown back onto the ground. Panting, he stared at his pale hands that spread against the floor, inhaling slowly to keep his twisting stomach still. Weakly, he turned to Heimdall, the gatekeeper and protector of the Bifrost. The dark God nodded, his golden eyes glazed over as he placed his hands that were still hovered where Loki's temples had been seconds ago to his side.

"That is what Hayden is chasing after?" he pulled himself up, using his knees for support.

Heimdall nodded. "Yes, it seems that Black Knight has finally made his appearance."

"Why is he looking for her father?" asked Loki, slicking his ravenesque hair back with trembling fingers. "Will he look for her when he realizes that her father is dead?"

"I do not know," answered Heimdall, turning his attention from Loki and to the wall before him. "I cannot read minds nor do I foresee the future."

Loki straightened his dark green robes and sneered, "for a title such as all-seeing you sure do not live up to it."

Heimdall ignored Loki's jab. "I told you if she were in danger that Thor would know. As of now, she is fine."

Loki pointed to the gate of the Bifrost. "Did you not witness what she is up against? Mortal agents will not keep her safe."

Heimdall slid his golden gaze back onto Loki. "You possess no magic yourself. Your use to her is just as limited."

Loki bit on the inside of his cheek, curling his hands into fists. A smile flicked onto the corner of his lips. He set his jaw, and coyly retorted, "regardless of my state of magical abilities I am still an Asgardian."

"You are of Jotunn blood," replied Heimdall, his voice was even despite the vehemence of his words.

"Yes," Loki soothingly agreed, licking the corner of his lip. How he would love to watch Heimdall squirm in agony at his feet. "As a Jotunn I have a certain trick or two that my brother Thor does not. I should be there-"

"You cannot cross the Bifrost," boomed Heimdall, his voice reverberated through the done they stood inside. "You have forsaken the treaty between Midgard and Asgard, defiled the sacred oath to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I told you Laufeyson, you would never see Hayden again."

Loki snarled, hissing between his teeth. He stepped forward, pressing his nose inches from Heimdall's. His chest heaved up and down as he thought of all the things he wanted to do to the man. He could simply use his powers of the ice giants and freeze Heimdall as he did years ago. If he were to do so then he would have free access to Midgard to aid Hayden, or to at least stop her from her sudden madness in joining S.H.I.E.L.D.

Exhaling slowly through his nostrils Loki took a full step back. Unfortunately freezing Heimdall was what led him to having his powers taken away in the first place. The road to redemption was far from entertaining.

With one last glare Loki stormed out with his robes billowing behind him. He walked the entire length of the Rainbow Bridge to the Asgardian city that stood tall. The three moons shined high in the vast, starry sky, pooling light across the calm waters below.

The past three months since Hayden had rejected staying on Asgard with him had been agony. He helplessly wondered if she had called for him only to realize that no matter how many times she called he would not appear. His mind wandered to the images that Heimdall had shown him cursing under his breath at what a fool she could be.

Running head on into danger, Loki smirked, just like Hayden to not care about her own safety and to throw herself in front of others. He frowned then, wishing that she had done as she had said and became a teacher instead.

His hands curled into fists. What would compel her to continue with S.H.I.E.L.D. Hayden had told him herself that she did not belong there? She had also told him that she could not stay on Asgard because she did not belong there. What convinced her to stay somewhere that made her feel like an outcast when she would not stay for him?

He thought of the first time Heimdall had been decent enough to share what he could see. Loki's heart pined at the sight of Hayden lounged on a leather sofa sipping on a mug with steam rolling from the rims. Her wide green eyes hungrily salvated at the stack of papers that laid in her lap. She had her long brown hair down, spilling over her pale shoulders. It was his favorite way she wore it; made easier for grabbing.

Loki wished that he could have placed a kiss at the base of her neck, waiting for when she would inevitably tug at the bottom of her lip trying to stay focused. He would continue to trail his lips along the curves of her soft skin, inhaling the faint flowery smell that always lingered. She would inhale slowly, leaning into his kisses as she furrowed her brows in one last attempt to keep reading. Though Loki knew that her mind would be elsewhere.

His thoughts were distracted when a tall, slender brunette plopped on the couch beside her. They began to talk about their mission revolving around the Black Knight. He watched as Hayden spoke of the explosions throughout Europe and the kidnappings of prestigious members that were associated to the mythological worlds. She thought they might be connected though it seemed no one else agreed with her.

Loki did though. Hayden was smart, for a Midgardian. It didn't take long for Loki to realize the implications of what she was dealing with. Heimdall had repeatedly informed him that she was fine or that she was safe. For someone that claimed to be all-seeing he really saw nothing after all. Hayden was dealing with something much bigger than than any of them knew. He had to get to Midgard if it were the last thing that he did.

They called themselves The Dark Knighthood, an excruciatingly unoriginal name filled with members of mortals that knew far more than they should. Their identities remained secret, even to the gods, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was in for a rude awakening should The Dark Knighthood succeed with whatever it was that they involved themselves in. It never ended pretty.

Midgardians suffered every time The Dark Knighthood presented themselves in history. The Crusades, The Holocaust, The Cold War...just to name a few. Their hands were far from clean. Which arose an interesting question. Why would The Dark Knighthood send Black Knight after Hayden's father and how long would it take before they went after Hayden instead?

Refusing to find out after Hayden was dead, Loki stormed through the Asgardian Palace halls until he reached Odin's trophy room. Inside contained precious trinkets that the All-Father had won throughout his victories in battle. Loki was surprised he did not have a pedestal placed inside the room for him to sit uponon seeing as he was nothing more than a trophy to Odin from a Jotunn war.

He scanned the items inside the vault, counting five mystical objects all together. Hidden inside the walls was The Destroyer, meant to protect Odin's spoils of war. The Casket of Ancient Winters had been long since removed after Loki's triste with using it to freeze Heimdall. That left the Orb of Agamotto, The Infinity Gauntlet, The Enternal Flame, The Tablet of Life and Time, and The Warlocks Eye left at his disposal. All of them were powerful and useful in their own ways but none would help him protect Hayden.

"Brother, do not do this." Loki stilled at the sound of Thor's voice. "Do not do this."

Curling his upper lip in contempt, Loki spun around and dramatically bowed. "Whatever do you mean my King?"

Thor kept his face still, his icy blue gaze frozen in place. He folded his arms against his burly chest, frowning. "Stealing from this room is not wise. You know this."

"I was not planning on stealing," retorted Loki. Thor raised his bushy brows. Loki sighed, "I was going to return whatever it was I thought to take."

"Heimdall told me about Hayden. I promised you brother that if you thought she were in trouble I would be there for her."

Loki squinted his eyes, stepping forward. "Is it not I who should be there to protect her?"

Thor's gaze softened and he matched Loki in strides, reaching out to put both of his meaty hands onto Loki's thin shoulders. Gently, Thor cupped Loki's cheek, firmly holding on as he started to smile.

"If you wish to redeem yourself than you must abide by the laws. You cannot cross the Bifrost, but I can, and I can ensure that the woman you love is safe," Thor told him, his voice hard but sympathetic. He offered another small smile, continuing, "she will understand why you are not there, Loki."

Loki swallowed hard, biting hard on his tongue. It should be he who is there for Hayden and not Thor. He should have forced her to stay in Asgard with him. Then none of this would be a problem to deal with and he would be able to keep Hayden safe at all times. Instead he was left to steal from a dead man's trophy room.

Sucking on the inside of his cheek he flashed Thor a sly smile. "Of course my brother," he soothingly replied.

"I know that this must be hard, but I will keep her safe," promised Thor, patting Loki on the shoulder. He gave him one last look then turned to leave the room.

Loki watched the doors to the trophy room scrap along the floor as they closed. His eyes wandered around, taking in the assortment of items. He felt his face fall at the realization that there was nothing inside the vault that would help him escape Asgard.

Defeated, Loki stormed out of the vault, slamming the doors behind him. He turned on his heel surprised to see Lady Frigga staring up at him. Since the death of the All-Father her appearances had been rare outside of her garden or her chambers. It had nearly put all of Asgard into shock when she joined a banquet three nights before.

She stood just below his chin, gazing at him with icy blue eyes. Her long, curly blonde hair was pinned back into a bun with elegant silver beads that draped around it. She wore a simple gown of violet trim that hung loosely at her collarbone. Even in her sorrow she never looked less than a queen.

"Lady Frigga," he greeted, bowing slightly.

She shook her head, gathering her skirts together and took a small step forward. "My son," she coolly replied, releasing the hold of her gown and grabbing for his hand. Loki crinkled his brows as Frigga spread out his fingers. "When I first met your father I had to vie for his attention against other woman at a banquet. Though, I didn't have to try very hard," she smirked, glancing up at him, "when you are in love you are in love and nothing should stop at that."

Slowly, she slipped a silver ring onto Loki's finger. He gazed at it instantly recognizing it for he had seen it most of his life. It was Frigga's wedding ring. He glanced to her fingers, frowning at the pale mark left from years of never taking it off.

He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away but she gripped on tightly, pleadingly staring up at him. "Loki, I have enchanted it for you so that you can use the power of transformation to sneak through the Bifrost," she informed him, "though its powers are limited." She pointed to the large, opal stone that sat in the middle of the ring, "when it turns black it means it needs to rest. Use it wisely for you rightfully have enemies on Midgard."

She dropped his hand and he twisted at the ring on his finger. "Why would you do this?"

"Because it is what mothers do. They look out for their sons. _All_ of their sons. You should go to her, Loki. Be with the one that you love."

"Frigga-I-"

She turned her head away from him, closing her eyes. "You need not to say a word. Just go to her, Loki, before it is too late."

He felt his throat tighten. Inhaling deeply he reached out, quickly dropping his hand to his side. Without a word he closed his eyes and willed the magic to course through his blood. It was where the logic of science ended when magic began.

The idea of transformation was much too complicated for mortals to understand. They thought it a painful process of breaking bones and pushing insides together. It was as simple as it looked.

With open eyes Loki took the form of a small raven. Spreading his wings he cawed. Lady Frigga smiled at him, lifting him from the marble floor. Loki cawed once more, hoping it was sufficient enough for a thank you. He would thank her properly after cleaning up the mess Hayden was about to find herself in.

Frigga walked to an open balcony, opening her palms over the golden rail. Loki stretched his wings, watching the dome that housed the Bifrost slowly turn. With a birds eye view he was able to see Thor reach the entrance with perfect clarity. If he timed his flight correctly he would be able to fly through the Bifrost as soon as Heimdall opened it for Thor. He only had one chance.

* * *

The ring on his finger clouded black, swirling until the opal color was drained. He inhaled sharply, stuffing his hands in his pocket and walked through the flames. For several days Loki had been following the destructive trail left behind the Black Knight. His attacks were spontaneous and hard to figure out where he would strike next.

As it were his attacks kept to Europe, and Loki could only hope they remained in Europe. He wasn't certain if he would be able to find the Black Knight should he expand his search for Hayden's father. It bothered Loki not knowing what the Black Knight's intentions were. Especially in regards to what that could mean for Hayden. Who knew what would happen once the Black Knight knew her father had died, but he was not about to risk Hayden's life to chance.

However, it seemed tracking someone who could fly off into the sky on a bioengineered beast wasn't an easy task for a god with very limited powers. And, by limited he had none save for the ring Frigga gave to him. Loki pulled his hand from his pocket, gazing at the black stone. He couldn't remain in his human form long. His enemies were everywhere. Including who Hayden worked for. It was why he had decided the moment he passed through the Bifrost that he would avoid her and take care of the Black Knight before either of them found one another.

If only he had his powers back. Then he could just teleport to where the Black Knight was and take care of him then and there. It was rather infuriating constantly being one step behind. Though ever cloud had a silver-lining; he was several steps ahead of Hayden and S.H.I.E.L.D.

Those few steps had lead him from Germany to Tønsberg, Norway. Something did not settle well with Loki concerning the particular village having been attacked in search of Hayden's father. The town itself had a rich history whereas the Norse Gods were involved, specifically none other than Loki himself.

In 965 the Frost Giants had intended to invade Midgard starting with Tønsberg. Odin's love for the Midgardian creatures led to a war between Asgardians and Jotunns resulting in the Battle of Jötunheimr. However, the Asgardian army won and with it brought the demise of the Frost Giant King, Laufey. Odin banished the Jotunns from ever leaving their realm, forcing upon them a treaty between Asgard and Jötunheimr.

The All-Father's love for the spoils of a victorious war resulted in two trophies. One was the Casket of Ancient Winters and the other King Laufey's infant son. Not any infant, but Loki. It wasn't many until centuries later-a few years ago nonetheless-that Loki learned the truth of Odin's lies.

That was not all Tønsberg had to offer to the gods. During the Battle of Jötunheimr the Tesseract was lost and made its way to Tønsberg where it was lost for centuries. In 1942, the Tesseract made its way into the bloodstained hands of Johann Schmidt, the leader of HYDRA and victim of Captain America. After finding the Tesseract, Schmidt had his army burn Tønsberg to the ground.

What a pity to have rebuilt an entire city from the ashes only to have it fall again. Though what the Black Knight wanted in Tønsberg remained a mystery. What was he doing searching for Hayden's father in Norway? All the unanswered questions buzzed at the back of his mind, driving him to the brink of screaming out.

An elderly woman held out her hand, shaking a rusted silver cup at him, distracting him from his thoughts. "Some spare change, sir?" she weakly asked him in a thick Norwegian accent. "My home burned in the attack."

Loki learned around at the blackened city. "It would seem you are not the only one," he replied, passing by her.

He had no time to waste with Midgardian beggars. He had to figure out what exactly tied the Black Knight and Hayden's father to Nordic villages. And he had to find out before it was far too late.

* * *

"Will you turn that off? It's annoying."

I glanced at Ward, who gripped his knuckles tightly around the rental car's steering wheel. Rolling my eyes, I reached forward to turn the knob when an announcer broke into the middle of the song. Ward opened his mouth to speak but I held up a finger instantly shushing him. My fingers danced along the volume control, turning up the sudden news report.

"The Norwegian government is releasing an official statement about the attack in Tønsberg," I informed Ward, furrowing my brows together. "They said as of now there is no proof as to whether or not there is a connection to the attacks in Germany but to keep a lookout for..." my voice trailed off as the radio announcer clearly states in a thick accent, "Loki."

I felt my heart drop to my feet as I sat back in my seat numbly staring at the vast green fields ahead of us. It didn't make sense. Why would they suspect Loki for the attacks in Tønsberg? He was in Asgard, unable to use the Bifrost. Even Thor had insisted that he could not return to Midgard without his powers.

But, what if he had his powers back? What if instead of learning from the lesson he turned to attacking Midgard as he promised Odin on his deathbed that he would? What if-

Stop it, Hayden, I warned myself scratching at the side of my head. Ward glanced over at me, offering a sympathetic nod. "Sometimes people don't change no matter how much we want to believe that they can."

I blinked upward, staring at the gray material glued to the roof of the car. Exhaling slowly, I tried to remind myself that Ward was trying to be somewhat nice. At least he hadn't rubbed it in my face and yelled, "I told you so!"

Even so, it still didn't feel good. What if he was right? What if Loki didn't change? A few months wasn't going to correct millennias of damage.

I swallowed past the rough patch in my throat. "I still think it's Black Knight. Why else would Coulson send us to Tønsberg? Loki is not our mission, Black Knight is."

Slowly, Ward began to nod. "You're right. We've got to keep our eye on the mission."

I squinted my sight at him, blinking uncertainly. He had to have had something up sleeve. Agent Ward was actually being nice? Hardly.

Deciding it was best not to say anything at all I turned my attention outside. If I wasn't in such s horrid mood I'd have enjoyed the rolling hills and beautiful trees much more. As it were I just wanted to go to Tønsberg, figure out what happened and return to England. At least in England all I had to worry about was Black Knight. Now I was left with the aching pain that ate at my chest over whether or not I should trust my head or my heart.

I closed my eyes. I had to believe in Loki. If I didn't who else would he have? My tongue ran along the chapped skin of my swelling lips from absentmindingly chewing on them. Thor. Thor would always believe in the best in his brother.

But, I should as well. I believed in him even when part of me still thought he worked for Karnilla. I had to believe in him now. Loki wanted to seek redemption. He wouldn't set Midgard to flames.

I snapped my eyes open, staring at the trees that zoomed by. If I didn't think of something else soon then my head was going to explode. It was all just too much for me to understand at once. I desperately needed a drink. Or two.

We pulled into the parking lot to the ferry in Moss. Ward shut off the car and together we walked inside the empty building. Uncertain I looked around, curious as to why there were no customers.

Ring! Ring! Rin-rin-ring! Impatiently, Ward slammed his hand down on the bell. Annoyed, I reached out pulling his wrist away from the counter. He sharply turned to me, knotting his thick, dark brows in confusion. I was about to tell him to relax when a woman's voice greeted us in Norwegian.

We turned behind us to see a tall, thicker woman with long, blonde hair that fell in waves down to her back. Her eyes were a large blue, and she had lips Scarlet Johansson would kill for. She wore a simple green smock over a pair of jeans and plain teal tee. I looked to her name tag, then back to her with a wide smile.

Stepping forward I held out my hand but she quickly raised hers to show me that they were covered in dirt. Apologetically she explained that she was repotting her plants for the restaurant attached to ferry rental booth. I waved her apology away, and asked her when the ferry left for Tønsberg.

She looked from Ward and I, then very slowly in English asked, "you are from America?" We nodded, flashing her our international badges. "And you are going to Tønsberg? Why not fly?"

"Unfortunately no plane, federal or otherwise, will fly to Tønsberg. So, we went the traditional route," I replied, placing my badge back inside my blazer.

"Today is not your day then," she frowned walking over to the front counter and picking up a rag that laid beside the cash register. She started to wipe the dirt off her hands, continuing, "the ferries refuse to go to Tønsberg as well. In fact, no one will go. They say the village is cursed."

Ward scoffed, "cursed?"

The woman nodded, her eyes wider than before. "Bad things happen in three."

"Did we travel back in time while flying over the border?" asked Ward tossing his arms into the air. He shook his head and placed his hands firmly on his hip. "What do you mean that bad things happen in three?"

"It's a writing principle that suggest things that come in three are more powerful. They're inherently funny, or sadder," I informed Ward scrunching my nose, "though in this case they're bad. The village was burnt down in 1942 and this is the second time that its been left to ashes."

"So you're telling me that no one will go to Tønsberg because of a superstition?" Ward looked like he was in pain, torn between laughing and crying. Instead he made a sound that consisted of the both. "The city just burnt to the ground. I highly doubt anything bad will happen again for sometime soon."

The woman shrugged, setting the dirty rag onto the counter. "Better to be safe than sorry. Especially considering who they say is behind the attacks." She leaned forward, raising her thin eyebrows high, "they say it's the same man who led the attacks in New York a few years ago. He calls himself Loki, can you believe that."

Ward and I exchanged a look, but neither of us said anything about the subject. Instead I cleared my throat and asked, "is there a manager we can too?"

"You won't change his mind. It was my father who said that the ferry stays away from Tønsberg."

"And where is he?" asked Ward.

"He won't be back for another two hours at least," she replied, "though I doubt you'll be able to convince him."

"Yeah," snorted Ward, "we'll just have to see about that." The young woman shrugged again, and turned her attention toward the ringing phone. "Great," he hissed, "now what?"

"Well, we wait for him," I replied, as though that wasn't what he was going to suggest in the first place. "She said she was potting plants for a restaurant next door. We can just wait there."

"Good thinking," nodded Ward. He walked to the counter, reaching over to grab for a pen. Pretending to scribble out a note the girl rolled her eyes and handed him a scrap paper. Ward wrote something down then slid it toward her, "call us when your father returns," he told her dropping the pen onto the number.

He flicked his eyebrows up, then to my surprise smirked, "looks like we have some time to stop chasing the bad guy. How about that vodka?"

* * *

** A/N: ** Thanks for all the love you've all been leaving. Glad you're all excited for the sequel as I am. Just a heads up Nanowrimo is around the corner which means I have no idea much I will be able to update during November. I will try to update again as soon as I can.

* * *

** Reviews**

**queenofclover**: Thank you so much and thank you for all your comments and thoughts on CtS. I'm glad you're enjoying the story! That's actually why I started to write this. I was tired of the super sweet, out of character Loki's I kept finding in fanfic. That and my friend Vicvic221 encouraged me to give it a shot. I never thought I would enjoy writing it so much.

**RealizeMyRealEyes**: Thank you so much! I am really happy that people like Hayden so much. Well, they've grown to love her at least haha

**OhHaiSerah**: That's actually a big thing I plan on focusing on in this story.

**ReadingConundrum**: Thanks! I was actually just talking to a friend today that I've been obsessed with mythology since middle school so it's really easy for me to incorporate it and make it not boring, because I don't find it boring so why would I write that way? (:

**vicvic221**: you make me eternally blush haha thank you. It's a relief that you at least like Ward. I think he's going to be a very interesting character and it's going to be a lot of fun once Loki pops into the picture.

**kieekaa**: cool your tits woman haha


	4. Chapter Four

** Chapter Four**

"Grant Ward," I read aloud squinting through blurred vision at Ward's passport. "You have a lovely smile," I teased pointing at his straight-laced expression in the photo.

Rolling his eyes Ward snorted and snatched the passport from my grasp. He pocketed inside his leather jacket and nodded toward me. "Okay, you saw mine. You know the deal."

Groaning, I scrunched my nose and stirred the straw in my drink. The ice clanked against the glass, swirling around the strong fruity alcoholic beverage. Ward nursed a jack and coke, raising his brows at me expectantly.

"Okay, but no laughing," I warned him slipping out my passport and sliding it across the booth.

Ward took the passport, flipping it open to stare at the photo inside. He managed not to laugh, closing it quickly and sliding it back to me. Shrewdly, I stared at him, watching the corners of his lips twitch.

"Go ahead," I sighed, "laugh."

Ward snorted, reaching for the passport again. Quickly I snatched it off the table and placed it back next to my badge. He licked his lips and rubbed at his chin, stifling back his smile.

"No, it's cute," he replied. Then chuckled, "I mean if doing a Christopher Walken impression is what you were attempting to do."

Frowning I thought to day the I got my passport picture taken for S.H.I.E.L.D. I already had one from my extensive travels with my parents and from college but they insisted I replace it with an up to date photo. So, I made certain to have my hair in its neatest bun and practiced my best smile.

The day I had gotten my passport replaced I had awful allergies and I sneezed midway through. My eyes were squinted and my face was rather long with incredibly patchy cheeks. The old bat of a woman who worked there that day refused to let me take a new one and unfortunately a few days later I was sent to Asgard. When I returned to New York there was hardly any time to bother with a silly photo.

Though I didn't exactly think I would find myself chasing after a man dressed as a black knight who was searching for a mythical blade. Sighing, I took a sip of my drink, telling myself that this was the last one. My head was starting to get dizzy.

"This is Ward." I glanced over my shoulder. Ward pressed his phone to his ear, his eyes dark as they stared across the table. "Thank you sir, we'll be right over." He ended the call and slipped his phone inside his pockets, nodding to me, "let's go, the ferryman has returned."

Inhaling deeply I stood up, adjusting the jacket to my blazer and followed Ward out of the restaurant. We turned the corner into the lobby where the blonde haired woman was rapidly speaking to a gruff man with a thick blond beard. He looked to us at the sound of our footsteps, his head shaking as the woman continued to speak.

We introduced ourselves, showing him our badges and then I briefly explained in Norwegian that we needed to go to the city of Tønsberg. The man stopped shaking his head at once, then replied to me in his native tongue, "it would take a madman to play with fire." He glanced around his lobby, resting his gaze on his daughter, "Havana, go finish potting those plants."

He waited until she was gone before speaking again, this time in English. "You can ask Freya Pederson. She works over at the junkyard. She might be willing to give you a ride for a price."

"This is ridiculous," grunted Ward, facing away from the ferryman and shook his head.

"Thank you," I told the man, walking toward Ward and putting my hand on his shoulder. "Let's go, we've already lost enough time."

"Yeah," he muttered storming out of the lobby.

Exhaling slowly I followed after him. "Perhaps we should call Coulson," I suggested, stepping outside into the high afternoon sun. For an early spring it was rather warm and I felt tempted to remove my jacket. Instead I slipped on my sunglasses, adding, "I bet we could get our own private ferry if we did."

He shook his head. "I'm calling Bridger."

I pulled my brows together. "The pilot?" He nodded. "Why?"

Pulling out his phone Ward barely glanced at me as he hastily answered, "I'm going to make him fly us to Tønsberg. It's what we should have done anyways."

"Superstitions aside no one is going to Tønsberg because it's not safe to go there," I pointed out, "you can't just..."

"Bridger, it's Ward."

"Or just ignore me, that's cool too I guess," I muttered folding my arms against my chest and looking around at the vacant city around us. It seemed like everyone was in hiding.

It made sense that no one was really out and about. After all their country was being attacked by something they didn't understand. This was something far more dangerous than speculations that the attacks were caused by the New York terrorist named of Loki.

Still it grated at me that Ward had a photo of Loki in Germany the day the town of Schwentinental was set under fire. While I refused to believe that it was Loki behind the attacks it made me curious if he was in fact back on earth. Just because he was banned from using the Bifrost and lost all his magic didn't mean he wouldn't have found a way to return. He was after all the God of Mischief. If there was anything I had learned about Loki was to never underestimate him.

"No, you see I don't care," Ward huffed into the phone, "you're going to-Bridger...no, Bridger, I don't care...hello? Bridger? Bri-" hissing he pulled his phone away from his ear and glared at the black screen. "Bastard."

"Trouble in paradise?" I asked, pursing my lips tightly together. Ward rolled his eyes, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Let's try this Freya Pederson woman. That guy did say she might be able to help us."

Ward sighed. "Yeah, okay let's go."

* * *

Water dripped in the distance, filling the silence. Candles quivered in fear as Black Knight strolled through the stone halls. Standing on a makeshift stage was the leader of The Dark Knighthood, clad in robes of black that covered his face.

The knight kneeled before him, lowering his head. His armor clanked together as he slammed his fist against his chest. Slowly, the leader turned, his face shrouded in shadows.

"Have you found Dr. Waltham?" asked the cloaked figure, leering down at Black Knight.

"They have said he returned to America thirty years ago," replied Black Knight, his deep robotic voice echoed through the empty citadel. "I will go to-"

The cloaked man began to chuckle. It started from his stomach, low and throaty slipping from his twisted mouth. "America? What a fool. He thought his secrets could protect him. Find him, bring him to me and after he is finished speaking I will rip his tongue out myself."

"As you command it," complied Black Knight rising to his feet.

"And Dr. Garrett," continued the cloaked figure. Black Knight ceased walking, his back remained turned to the leader of The Dark Knighthood. "Do not forget the power of leverage."

Black Knight slowly looked behind his shoulder. "He has nothing of importance that we can take."

Beneath the hood, shrouded in the shadows the man began to smile. "He has more than you know."

* * *

We drove through the front gates, passing piles of balding tires and rusting car frames. The smell of gasoline mixed with dirt was strong without any wind to blow it away. Exhaling heavily I stepped outside of the rental car, slamming the door harder than I intended to. Not even a second later a large rottweiler barreled out of the front door of the junkyard office, wildly barking.

Instinctively, Ward pulled out his gun, aiming it at the massive beast. My heart pounded hard against my chest as I reached for my own gun. My trembling fingers knocked at the straps unable to listen to the commands that my brain was giving me.

"Austin!" shouted a woman's voice. The dog stopped at his owner's sharp command, sitting on his hind legs. His fat pink tongue plopped out from behind jagged teeth.

I swallowed hard, releasing my grip from the butt of my gun. Ward lowered his weapon, pointing it at the ground as a dark, short woman stormed out of the office. She spoke to the dog in Norwegian commands. With giant brown eyes the rottweiler laid down, placing his fat head between his paws. Despite the fear that still coursed through my veins I felt a sudden pang in my heart as I thought of my own dog, Sully and how much I missed him.

The woman looked up at us with a wryly smile. "Sorry about that," she hastily apologized in an English accent, bending down to pat the beast's head. "Austin is just doing his job. He's really just a giant teddy...bear...Grant?"

I looked between the curvy woman and Ward, furrowing my brows tightly together. Ward pocketed his gun, cocking his head to the side. "Bailey," he replied, clearing his throat.

I inhaled sharply, dragging my pointer finger between the two of them. "You two know each other."

The woman named Bailey slowly rose, tucking her blonde bangs behind her ear. "We go way back," she answered, keeping her gaze firmly on Ward.

My teeth pulled at the skin of my lips. The tension between the two of them was suffocating. "We're looking for Freya Pederson," I told her, trying to distract from the awkwardness around me.

The woman cocked a smile, licking her lips as she sharply turned her attention to me. "That's me," she replied folding her arms across her busty chest. "At least that's what I go by now."

"Oh shit," I heard Ward mutter under his breath.

Titling my head to the side I faced Ward and despite knowing the answer still asked, "we're not getting a ride to Tønsberg, are we?"

He flicked his gaze toward Bailey underneath raised thick brows. "Yeah, probably not."

"So you're the douchebag Americans demanding to be taken to Tønsberg," she commented widening her smile. "Havana called me and said I should be expecting them. I really should have guessed that Grant Ward would have been the one."

"What did you do to her?" I hissed, scrunching my nose up. This was our only ticket to Tønsberg unless we drove around which would take us several hours out of our way...or swan across the sea. "Apologize or something, we don't have time for this."

"I did apologize," he muttered, "a lot."

"Apologize again," I ordered, thrusting my finger forward, "we do not have time for this."

"It's alright," shouted Bailey, unfolding her arms and patting her leg. Austin the raptor jumped to his feet. "I happen to be a mature adult and will take you to Tønsberg."

I exhaled loudly, spinning on my heel to face her. Smiling gratefully I started to thank her until she held up her hand, interrupting with the shake of her head, "for a price."

"What kind of price?" I tersely asked, glancing to Ward and wishing I could wring his neck.

She smiled, tilting her head toward the office. "Why don't we go talk figures inside?"

"We can talk just out here," smirked Ward crossing his arms. "What do you want, Bailey?"

"It's Freya," she retorted, putting her hands firmly on her hips. "I want my name cleared."

"You know I can't do that-"

"Then I can't help you."

"Look we can get you money or-"

Bailey-or Freya as she called herself-snorted indignantly. "You think I care about money? What good would money do me if I can't even use it to go home."

"You killed an agent."

"I saved our lives," she hissed. Austin growled deep in his throat. "If you're going to Tønsberg you better leave now."

"Great," I muttered tossing my hands into the air and opening the car door. "I get to choose the station."

Ward glanced to Freya sighing as he slipped into the driver seat. He slammed his door shut, shoving the key into the ignition. Revving the engine he peeled out, turning up dust and gravel as he drove backwards and out through the gates.

Freya watched us leave, her figure shrouded in the dust. Austin fiercely barked remaining at her side. I inhaled deeply directing my attention from where she stood and out the passenger side window. This was going to be the longest road trip of my life.

* * *

There was something to taking to the sky rather than running around on the ground when searching for clues. For one thing having a bird's eye view allowed for seeing farther and wider. And for another there was no dealing with pesky Midgardians. But, there was also the feeling of the wind rustling Loki's black wings together and that was his favorite thing when it came to flying. It felt so...free.

Loki had taken the form of a raven hours ago, flying high above Norway for signs of Black Knight. There was no scent for him to pick up, or trail to really follow. In a way it felt pointless trying to keep up with the knight. Part of Loki felt that if he found out what is was Black Knight wanted with Hayden's father then he could figure out how to stop him. But, how could a dead man talk?

Loki should have gone to America instead. Perhaps there was something in that library of his. The man was quite the scholar and had an extensive collection of books that Loki knew were extremely valuable. Getting to America with a temperamental magic ring while also being one of the most wanted men in the world wasn't exactly an option. S.H.I.E.L.D. would find him and detain him instantly.

No, he knew he had to continue his search where Fury couldn't get a hold of him. There had to be someone who knew Hayden's father than Loki could speak too. Why else was the knight searching for him in Europe? He had obviously made a few friends within The Dark Knighthood during his stay.

Loki stretched his wings out further, feeling the familiar drain that washed over him when the ring was exhausted. He had to land soon before he transformed back and fell to his death. Without his regenerative magic the fall would definitely end his life, that he was certain of.

His beady black eyes scoured the land below searching for somewhere hidden and away from civilization. Below him was Husøy, a village in the municipality of Tønsberg. It would have to do

Loki began his descent feeling a dizzying pit form in his stomach. He swallowed hard, feeling his wings start to fade. Inhaling deeply Loki braced himself for the inevitable fall hoping the water below him would soften the blow.

He plunged into the sea overcome with the burning sensation of salt rushing down his nose and throat. A thousand needles stabbed at his arm as he struggled to ride above the waves. Gasping for air, Loki inhaled deeply chugging liquid fire. His head felt light and his eyes felt heavy.

I will not die today, he yelled at himself kicking up toward the surface. He couldn't leave Hayden to deal with The Dark Knighthood alone. His head poked out from beneath the waves and he spluttered the water that threatened to choke him. Pushing past the heat in his lungs he swan toward the beach with the use of one arm

The sand was grainy and hot against his face as he fell forward, dragging himself out of the water. Waves washed over his boots, rushing to his waist. He inhaled sharply, coughing once more spilling water onto the sandy surface. His breathing was ragged and rough, the air in his lungs shoved against his throat. Loki moved his arm up to try and ease the pain in his throat when a blinding pain shot through his body.

Silently screaming he inhaled sharply biting hard onto his bottom lip. Stars danced around his vision, taunting him like the fairies on Asgard. He waited for the dizziness in his head to pass before he dared to pull down his sleeve, sucking in his breath at the sight of yellow bruises forming around his shoulder blade.

Loki couldn't help but chuckle. Of course he dislocated his shoulder. What else could go wrong. Shaking his head he bit down on his tongue and counted to three in hopes to mentally prepare himself for the pain that was to come. Exhaling slowly he clenched his jaw and pushed his shoulder back into place.

He cried out and fell forward, blinking through the pain. His sight began to blur. Through long lashes Loki could see a dark figure appear above him. He struggled to keep his eyes open but his lids were much too heavy. His lashes fluttered until there was nothing but darkness left.

* * *

"So what did you do to her?"

Grant didn't even take his eyes off the road as he sighed, "I thought we agreed not to talk about it. Besides, you heard the conversation. She killed an agent."

I made a face. "She said she saved your lives."

"People twist the truth to make themselves feel better, Waltham," he replied, sparing me a wary glance, "they even start to believe it sometimes." He shook his head, gripping tighter onto the steering wheel, "we're not talking about this. It's confidential."

"Confidential?" I snorted. "I'll just ask Coulson later."

Or Skye, I thought to myself since she was exceptionally skilled in digging up dirt on people. She was the one who had found out about my relationship with Loki. Skye refused to tell me how but I learned never to underestimate her again. However, when she confronted me about it we didn't realize that the room at the time was bugged.

Thankfully Coulson kept it under wraps but it didn't keep the remaining members on our team from finding out. Ward was the only one who had a real issue with it saying that anyone who could let the enemy into their bed wasn't trustworthy. It seemed apparent that three months later of working side by side I still wasn't trustworthy to him.

Ward sighed loudly, opening his mouth to speak when his phone rang. "Ward," he answered. Not even five seconds later he hung up the phone and signaled his blinker.

"What are you doing?" I asked looking around to see there was nothing around us for miles.

"Going back to Moss."

"Why?" I furrowed my brows. Unless..."did Freya call you?"

"Let's just say we have a ride to Tønsberg," he grunted, flipping an illegal u-turn into the other lane.

I gripped onto the handle, holding my breath as the tires peeled out from underneath us. Cursing under my breath I exhaled sharply. "A little warning would be nice next time," I reprimanded flinging my hand to my thundering heart.

"You're the one who said we didn't have time to waste getting to Tønsberg," he defended, straightening the car into his lane.

I gaped at him. "Yeah I would still like to arrive in one piece," I paused, then added, "alive."

"You're being dramatic," Ward pointedly commented as he started to suck on the inside of his cheek. "Anyways, Bai-Freya said she could take us to Tønsberg."

"What changed her mind?" I asked. When Ward didn't immediately answer I rolled my eyes and faced the window, "never mind. It's confidential, right?"

"It seems even money talks louder than freedom," he answered, clenching his jaw.

I kept my gaze on the vast green hills that blurred by. Money talked but I had seen the look in Freya's eyes, the way she glowered at Ward as if he was nothing more than a meat suit. She had something up her sleeve, I knew it.

There was no point in telling Ward though. He didn't trust anything I ever seemed to say. None of my ideas were good enough and he always looked for other ways around my suggestions so that we wouldn't have to go through with them. I would just have to keep an eye on Freya myself then, just in case. As if I didn't already have enough on my plate.

* * *

** A/N: **Hello everyone. Thank you for your comments and reviews. This will probably be the last update until after November because I am participating in Nanowrimo. Also, I am currently dealing with family problems as well and that is taking up a lot of my time and energy. My sister is currently being denied to be put on a transplant list because doctors claimed her social support system was not big enough. To prove them wrong I have created a Facebook page. If you follow me on twitter or tumblr I have posted links to the page. Since I can't share links here you can find the page under the name of Supporting Rhonnee. It would mean the world to me if you would like the page. Thank you.

* * *

** Reviews**

**Kieeka**: I feel like every time you tell me to update soon I take longer to update haha

**RealizeMyRealEyes**: Thanks! I thought it would be funny. Haha and yes they will make an appearance. Definitely Tony and most likely Banner. I haven't decided who else but it's still in the air for now.

**StarletSpotlight**: I'm excited to get down to it! And thank you. She's been fun to write and help grow.

**Fantasy Panda**: Thank you I'm glad you enjoyed the first one. And I'm so happy when people say they enjoy how I write Loki because I worry about that sometimes.

**Boca3**: I think it's a valid thing to get mad about haha even Hayden is in a tiff about it. (: and thanks!


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

"You look like you're going to throw up."

Weakly, I gazed up at Ward's mixed emotions of concern and amusement as I pressed my hand to my stomach, inhaling sharply. "No, no," I muttered, waving him away. "I should be fine in a few minutes."

Ward grimaced, but said nothing as he turned to face Freya. She hadn't even given us a goodbye as she pulled out of the harbor heading back to Moss. It was just as well; the entire trip had been nothing short of awkward.

In between my dry heaving and moans I could hear the tense banter between Freya and Ward. Neither of them said much that gave me any clue as to what their history was between them. Most of their responses to one another sounded like cavemen speaking.

The trip wasn't long but I had always preferred flying. The rocking of the waves that pushed against the boat never settled with me. At least I hadn't thrown up which I took as a good sign. Typically I would have been hanging off the railing, green in the face.

Wiping at my brow, I forced myself off the wooden bench I sat on. Ignoring the lurch in my stomach I swallowed a bitter taste, smacking my tongue along the roof of my mouth to get rid of the unsavory flavor. Slipping on my sunglasses I turned away from the blue water to the desolate town behind us.

I had been to Tønsberg several times throughout my life. All of them but once had been trips with my father. It was safe to say I had never seen it in the state it was in now. Tall, beautiful buildings made of brick were charred and crumbled on the ground. Trees that filled the streets were nothing more than standing charcoal. People that used to joyfully fill the townhouses were hidden amongst the ruin while mostly everyone else had evacuated.

Several police officers approached Ward and I as we made our way into town. We exchanged information showing them our passports and badges. Slipping both items into the jacket of my blazer I spoke to them in Norwegian, asking what had happened.

It was the same report as everywhere else: a man dressed in black armor riding a winged horse descended from the heavens and with a powered lance blew Tønsberg to ruin. When I asked them if they had any suspects I was not at all surprised to hear them murmur in agreement that it had to be the New York terrorist, Loki.

Kindly, I thanked them for their time chewing on the words I really wanted to spit their way. Refusing to look at Ward I took off through the smouldering city searching for any clues that might lead us somewhere. While the world cried wolf I knew that this was the work of the Black Knight, but not the work of the sword.

A lance, they claimed. Hmm.

I took in the thick, smokey smell as I stepped over burnt rubble. The heel of my shoes kicked up ashes that swirled around my ankle as we walked by people covered in soot. They picked through the rubble, trying their best to start cleaning up the streets. Others were offering words of comfort to their loved ones, some were most likely even strangers that sobbed together. There was an eerie silence through the deafening cries of death that surrounded us.

Pursing my lips into a thin line I walked toward a small shop that had once been a bookstore I would frequent with my father on our visits. It was nothing more than a brick carcass that decayed underneath the gray skies. Burnt books littered the ground around it. Bending to my knees I reached down for one of the books, picking it up by its spine. The pages slipped from the binding, spilling across my feet and scattered into the wind. I watched the blackened paper dance underneath peoples feet until Ward cleared his throat from behind me.

Standing up, I let the empty book fall to the ground. "This is the fifth time I have been here. I never thought it would like this," I slowly said trying to keep my voice level.

Ward clenched his teeth, glancing around our surroundings. He was about to speak when something stirred in the rubble of the bookstore. Pulling out his gun he signaled that I stay close behind him. Nodding, I followed Ward stepping through the still standing doorframe with my heart threatening to bolt out of my chest.

With the toe of his boot he kicked at the debris, peering around the corner. Ward held his gun to his chest then took off around the corner, pointing the barrel directly at a man who had been digging through the bricks. He held up his hands, closing his eyes tightly as he begged in a British accent that no one shoot.

Lowering his gun but keeping his finger on the trigger Ward asked, "who are you?"

"N-nathan...uh, Nathan Garrett," he nervously replied shifting his brown-eyed gaze between Ward and myself.

"What are you doing here? Most people have fled Tønsberg," I said shifting my weight to the side.

Nathan cocked his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. I swallowed nervously, glancing up at Ward. He raised a thick brow, shrugging.

Clearing his throat, Nathan shook his head adverting his gaze from me to Ward. "I'm doing research."

"Research?" repeated Ward, glancing around the mess. "For what?"

"It doesn't really matter anymore," sighed Nathan waving his hands at the piles of ashes that were once books. "Everything I needed was lost in the attack." He looked up at us both asking, "and who are you? Neither of you really look like a mugger."

"We're not muggers," Ward harshly responded, pulling out his badge.

"Law enforcement," Nathan nodded, folding his arms across his scrawny chest, "I see. Have you found the Loki guy yet?"

"We're not looking for Loki," I quickly replied before Ward could answer.

Nathan's wirey brows knitted together. "Isn't he the one responsible for these attacks?"

"It's classified," replied Ward.

"Okay then...well..." shrugging Nathan adjusted his button down shirt that hung out from underneath his plaid sweater vest, "good luck finding whoever it is you're looking for agents."

We waited until Nathan was gone before either of us spoke.

"You don't know if it isn't Loki," grated Ward at the same time I shrieked, "I think he knows something."

Silently we stared at one another, unblinking. Putting my hands on my hips I groaned. "Really? You're on that again?"

"I'm just saying that we shouldn't rule out any possibilities," grunted Ward slipping his gun back into place. Sighing he pinched the bridge of his nose asking, "Why do you think he knows something?"

Honestly, it was just a feeling. But, Ward was a man of facts, not gut instincts. He would just scoff at me if I told him. Instead, I shrugged walking toward the pile of debris of the books Nathan had been rummaging through.

"Look at this," I called, kneeling down to reach for a burnt cover. Most of the title was eaten away but part of it read bioengineering. Pursing my lips together I handed the book to Ward. "The horse is said to be-"

"Bioengineered," finished Ward, flipping through the eaten pages. "Okay, let's gather what we can and see if we can find a room for the night. We'll also have to find this Garrett guy for interrogation."

I nodded, setting to scrounge through what books were somewhat salvageable when Ward glanced down at me and nodded, "good work, Waltham."

* * *

We found a bed and breakfast just outside of city limits that was kind enough to take us in. The quaint establishment was owned by an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Aaby. They were rather grateful for the company saying that all their patrons fled the moment the attacks happened. So grateful in fact they only charged us half price after finding out that we would be renting separate rooms.

Mr. Aaby who was a bald, frail man whose bottom lip always hung out smiled at his wife after Ward informed them we were not a couple. "Our mistake my boy," replied Mr. Aaby in a thick, Norwegian accent. "We see young love all the time. Perhaps it clouds our judgment," he grinned showing off his gums as he patted his wife's tiny shoulder.

After the awkwardness had wedged itself between Ward and I we went to our rooms agreeing to meet downstairs once we were settled in. Desperate to take a shower I decided to hold off knowing that Ward was probably downstairs already waiting. Instead I changed my shoes into a pair with a more sensible sole and quickly brushed my teeth to get out the smokey residue that lingered inside my mouth. Feeling much better-ignoring the wanting sensation of having clean hair-I started to head out the door when my phone rang.

"Agent Waltham," I sharply respond.

"Agent Waltham this is Director Fury," said a female voice in a deep, forced tone, "and I want to know why your stupid ass hasn't called me yet."

Smiling, I shook my head. "Hello Skye."

"So what's the sitch?" she asked, crunching on something hard. "You haven't called in like ten hours."

Pulling my brows together I frowned, "what's the...sitch? Is that the little blue alien thing in that Disney movie?"

"What? No," squawked Skye, blowing out a puff of air. "That's Stitch. No, it's a reference to...never mind it's like talking to Captain America when it comes to pop culture." She sighed, popping another crunchy snack into her mouth. It sounded vaguely like popcorn. "Anyways, what's going on?"

"It's been a long day," I muttered releasing my hold on the door handle. Walking over toward the plush twin size bed draped with a flower-printed quilt I explained everything that had happened. Well, everything but the drinks Ward and I stopped to get. "Now we're in town trying to figure out what this Nathan Garrett guy was doing looking at books about bioengineering."

"Uh huh," Skye murmured," yeah so tell me about this Freya, Bailey chick. Do you think she and Ward used to...you know..." she trailed off finishing the sentence with a loud squeal that I guessed was supposed to be mattress springs.

"I don't know," I replied, making a face even though Skye couldn't see it. "I was going to see if you could dig up some dirt on her though. I don't really trust her and we'll be working with her again when we get a ride back to Moss."

"Yeah sure," said Skye rather cheerfully, "I'll see what I can dig up. So, was this Nathan guy at least hot?"

I thought about his tall, scrawny stature dressed in a plaid sweater vest over a pale blue button down paired with khakis and penny loafers. He had a round face with a sharp nose and light cerulean eyes underneath wirey brows that matched the untamed curls of his dark brown hair. He wasn't exactly sore to the eyes but he wasn't what I guess most people would define as hot. Average, I suppose.

"He was kind of cute, I guess...why?"

"Why not?" she scoffed. "What like you've never talked about guys before?" When I didn't answer right away Skye made a small choking sound. "Oh my god, you haven't." I could feel a scarlet blush spread throughout my cheeks. "Dude, you are so lucky to have me." I couldn't help but chuckle. "Ah, she laughs."

Smirking to myself I started to speak when a hard pound sounded at the door. "Oh crap I was supposed to meet Ward downstairs like five minutes ago," I groaned heading toward the door.

Skye started to snicker. "Okay I'll let you go. I wouldn't want," she cleared her throat mimicking a male voice, "'I'm Agent Ward. I can shoot a flying bird out of a car that I'm driving' to give you that pinched eye sour look."

I stifled a laugh, "I'll call you later," I promised hanging up the phone and opening the door. To my surprise it wasn't Ward but Mrs. Aaby at the door. "Can I help you, Ma'am?"

"Oh, no dearest," she kindly replied holding out an envelope with a shaky hand. "This letter came for you earlier today."

I furrowed my brows tightly together as I carefully took the envelope from Mrs. Aaby's liver-spotted grasp. "But...I just checked in less than twenty minutes ago..." I looked down at the curly script that printed my name and room number on the front. "I don't understand."

Mrs. Aaby shrugged. "I honestly thought it was my brain going cuckoo again," she smiled. "But here you are."

Sighing heavily, I nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Aaby."

"Of course, dear," she replied, widening her smile. Taking several small steps she turned around starting to head down the hall.

I closed the door, resting my back against the chipped wood as my finger tore through the crease of the envelope. With shaking fingers I pulled out a thick, white card. In the same scrawl used to write my name was an address. Pinching my brows to the bridge of my nose I flipped the card over to see that it was blank. Turning the card back around I looked at the address wondering what the hell was going on.

* * *

"Ding. Dong," sang Big Ben in the late of the night.

A young couple strolled through the London street with hands in tow and an umbrella overhead to keep dry from the slight drizzle. The curly haired boy leaned forward tucking his girlfriend's auburn waves behind her ear, placing a small kiss on the dimple of her cheek. She giggled, biting on her lower lip.

They had only been dating for a few weeks but deep down she knew he was the one. She felt it every time she stared into his bright, blue eyes. Whenever he smiled she felt compelled to join him even when she was sad. He knew how to turn her tears to laughter instead which she knew was rare in such a tough world.

They continued underneath the street lamps sticking to the sidewalk to avoid getting splashed by passing cars. A few drove a little too close to the curb, spraying their feet with dirty water. The young woman was grateful she had worn boots which had become a normal part of her attire since moving to England a year ago.

As they turned a corner, hand in hand, their giggles were cut short. High in the sky was a break in the clouds. The rain continued to fall despite the brilliant light that spilled unevenly onto the London streets. It was well into the night, far too late for the sun to be shining.

Knowing something wasn't right the girl tried to urge her boyfriend that they should turn around. He brushed her off, remaining where he stood when the faint pounding of hooves filled the air. Inside the ray of light that soaked the wet streets rode a knight in black armor sitting atop a white horse with wings. Swallowing hard the girl stepped back screaming to her boyfriend that they really should leave.

The knight continued down the stream of light, his horse landing just a few feet from where her boyfriend stood. The girl pressed herself against the alley wall, sliding around the corner, hiding behind a trashcan. She leaned her head against the damp bricks, silencing her cries as sticky tears clung to her cold cheeks.

Inhaling sharply she peeked out of the alley into the open streets where her boyfriend leapt back as the knight jumped off his horse. With wide eyes she stared at the white beast, noticing the metallic sheen that coated its wings. It snorted, blowing clouds of smoke from its flared nostrils as it stomped its hooves hard against the cobble.

The black knight stepped forward, matching each step her boyfriend took back until he was pressed against the wall of a building across the street. She could not hear what was being said and strained to listen until the knight violently grabbed her boyfriend's shoulder, pushing him to his knees on the ground. The young woman stifled a scream, holding her hands tightly against her mouth as she pressed her body back against the wall, sliding to the ground so that she hid behind the trashcan. It didn't take long for her boyfriend's yells of pain to fill the night air. Closing her eyes she wrapped her arms around her body, shivering as her heart pounded from inside her throat.

The sound of heavy, metal footsteps grew closer. Each step sent her body into shock, causing her to jump every time. Blinking her eyes open she watched the shadow of the knight stretch across the alleyway. It grew smaller the louder each step got. Panicking she urged herself to remain quiet, screaming when a lance shot through the trashcan nearly nicking the side of her face.

Standing up she started to run, screaming for someone to help her. Uncertain of where she was the young woman continued down the alley coming to a dead end. Crying in frustration she turned around to see no one was behind her. Thick fog rolled along the ground with shadows of what appeared to be a cat darting through the night. Breathing heavily she listened for the footsteps of the knight only hearing the dripping of water pouring from the gutters.

Certain that she lost the knight the young woman retraced her steps turning around a corner. Standing in front of her was the knight dressed in black armor. He breathed heavily through the slits of his helmet as he took three steps toward her. The young woman fell to her knees, slamming her hands against the cold, wet ground.

Tears rushed down her face as she cried, "please don't kill me, Loki!"

The knight roughly grabbed the young woman by her throat slamming her hard against the brick wall. Stars blinded her sight as she violently coughed tasting a metal tinge run down her throat. Groaning she felt her eyes start to roll to the back of her head as the knight tossed her onto the ground.

Skidding into a small puddle the girl cried out, desperately trying to crawl away. The knight stepped forward, piercing his lance through her hand into the ground. A deafening scream filled the night air as dark blood filled the brown, murky water that she laid in.

"I am not the one they call Loki," he told her, his voice grated together almost as though he spoke theough a robotic tuner. "I am called Black Knight and I am in search of someone by the name of Dr. Waltham."

"I-I don't know who that is," the girl cried. "I've never heard that name."

Black Knight tore his lance free from the girls hand. She gasped in pain, instantly cradling her wound as she used her elbows for support. Her entire body shaked as she rolled onto her back, kicking her feet in a futile attempt to scoot away from the knight.

The man reached out with his black, metal gloves wrapping his hand around the back of her neck. "I know. He resides in America. It is where I am headed now. I want you to spread the word. Tell them all that there is a new threat to fear but unlike Loki I won't be leaving so quietly." The knight chuckled, piercing his lance through the girl's leg releasing his hold on her neck to cover her mouth, silencing the screams. "You don't have to tell them so loudly."

* * *

A sliver of light poured through Loki's heavy eyelids. The faint smell of sickness lingered around him. The foul stench of stale sweat and new sweat mixed together was revolting. Smacking his dry lips together Loki swallowed to try and wet his mouth. Using his elbows for support he propped himself up in what felt like a bed.

Blinking his damp lashes Loki opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. He appeared to be in a Midgardian cabin made of wood. A small fire roared near the kitchen, splitting the wood into two. Ashes fluttered alongside the dust that floated in the air, settling onto the furniture.

Last he remembered he was falling from the sky. A sharp pain shot through his leg as he slammed his feet off the bed onto the wooden floor. Yelping in surprise Loki inhaled deeply grasping at his leg to see a white, thick gauze plastered from his foot to his knee.

"Be careful," reprimanded a woman's voice from behind him.

Loki glanced behind his shoulder to see a young woman rushing to his side. He crinkled his forehead as she lifted his leg back onto the bed. She had small hands on long arms decorated in multi-colored beads midway to her bony elbows. The woman had long blonde hair like most of her fair-skinned ancestors that was tied into a thick braid that hung at her pear-shaped waist.

Lifting her dark blue eyes up at him he noticed a pale milky sheen that glazed over them. Loki's breath caught in his chest. This young woman was blind.

"Where am I?" he slowly asked as she stood up smoothing out the wrinkles in her woolen dress. "Who are you?"

"Oh. I'm Astrid," she replied in a timid Norwegian accent. It was evident she traveled a lot. "You are safe in my home. I brought you here when you fell from the sky."

Loki knitted his brows together. "How exactly would that be possible?"

"Oh," gasped Astrid with a small smile, "I didn't carry you, of course. My older brother Didrick helped me."

Loki glanced around the small room noting it only had one bed. "And where is your brother now?"

"He doesn't live here," Astrid informed him, explaining that despite being blind she saw more than most. "I was the one who found you after all."

Loki ran his tongue along his chapped lips. "You did?"

Astrid nodded. "I saw it."

"You...saw it?" he slowly asked narrowing his eyes.

The young woman continued to nod, widening her smile. "I'm a seerer."

* * *

** A/N**: So, in the midst of Nanowrimo I somehow managed to shell out this chapter. Ugh. I just can't stay away from these two. Anyways, with that said thank you all for the kind words of encouragement for Nano. It's been a rollercoaster. But, I am definitely enjoying writing the story. Which is why I was hoping you guys could do me a big favor. You see, I would really appreciate it if you guys could check out what I am writing. I do plan on publishing one day and want to show what I can really do when I'm given my own story to play with. So, I'm going to bribe you guys: if I can get five new reviews (from different users) on my Nanowrimo project I will update this story again before the end of November. It would really mean a lot to me if you guys could check it out. Excerpt and link below. Thanks!

Also thank you all for the support in regards to my sister. She has been approved to get on a transplant list if she passes the physicals to make sure her body can handle the surgery. I have absolute faith she will pass and be put on that list. So, thank you all again, words cannot express my gratitude.

One last thing! If you haven't already check out **vicvic221**'s Fire & Rain and the sequel Counting the Stars. You will not regret it. She isn't even published and by far one of my top favorite authors. It's probably the best LokixOC on here as well. And I'm not just saying that because we are friends. Go read it. You'll see what I mean.

* * *

**The Tainted Ones Excerpt (Nano Project)**

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked, casting a long gaze my way.

I peered up from under the shadows of my hood, careful to conceal my eyes. "I don't really have a choice," I dryly responded.

"Everyone has a choice, Elle."

If that was true I wouldn't be here, I thought turning my hard stare back to the empty stage. Saliva caught in my throat. If it meant saving Lily then no, I had no choice. But, I wasn't about to argue the moot point. The last thing I needed at that moment was to draw unwanted attention to myself.

My goal at that time and place was simple; stay low until it was safe enough to grab for Lily. It wouldn't be much longer, the crowd was growing restless. They yearned for spilled blood and the sticky summer heat was making them extra cranky. All around me I could hear their groaning, desperate for the trial to begin.

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid anyone's glance. If someone were to recognize me it would mean an instant execution, one I couldn't be bothered with. Not until Lily was safe. My life mattered little to me but I was useless to her dead.

One by one people began to clap their hands together. It was nearly deafening. I made a mental note to thank Cameron for the earplugs. My train of thought was cut short as my future target walked out onto the stage, greeting the crowd with a winning smile.

Someone nearby hissed. It wasn't until Steele nudged me in the side with his elbow did I realize the sound had come from me. Regaining my composure I faked a smile and proceeded to clap among the mindless drones.

Senator Penn Carington, the leader of the faction known as The Movement waved to the crowd. His pressed on smile remained firmly in place. After the crowd settled down did he stand behind the podium. His fingers wrapped around the cheaply made wood, the silver ring of his deceased wife glittered in the sweltering sunlight.

Carington began his speech but my ears did not register the words that oozed from his thin, reptile-like lips. My focus was enraptured by those around me. Every single person in the crowd stared at Carington as though he was their savior, their mouths wide and eyes unblinking. It made my stomach twist and turn.

Biting back the bile I glanced to Steele and nodded. He returned the gesture, fixing his hood to cover his face and started to maneuver through the crowd. Exhaling deeply I played the role of an eager girl wanting to hear more. A few people turned at my touch but I was gone before they even noticed.

I moved with ease through the crowd, careful not to arouse suspicion when the words "public execution" rang in my ears. I halted to a stop. Senator Carington held out his arms and two armed guards emerged from behind the stage. Both men pointed their guns to the back of a frail female body; they both avoided touching her. The girl's face was hidden by a burlap sack but I instantly knew who was underneath it.

My panicked gaze glazed over the crowd, desperate to find Steele. He stood to the far off right, his lips slowly mouthed that I stay. I tore my attention from him, clenching my jaw so that my teeth grated against one another. Plans were about to change.

"We cannot let these abominations continue to walk around. They'll contaminate us. They'll destroy us." The crowd cheered with every point Carington vehemently made. "They need to be eradicated!" His hand slammed hard against the podium. "We must protect ourselves if the government won't."

The crowd roared in excitement, their hands wildly waved in the air. Carington smoothed back his stylish oil-slicked hair and flashed his sheep one of his famous smiles. He let them continue their cheers, strolling over to where Lily stood. I could see every muscle in her neck tense as if I stood next to her instead of the vile reptile that did. With both hands he tore the bag free, her ashen hair flew around her face as she lowered her gaze to her feet. Carington used the makeshift bag as a glove to push Lily onto her knees. She did not cry.

People around me began to fidget in their place. Some of them even took a step back, afraid that the air around them was now infected. Others began to grow angry, shouting to Carington that he kill her now. Steele and I were the only ones to remain exactly as we were.

"Look Monster, look at the people that you bring fear to," he told Lily, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look into the crowd.

Her amber eyes caught in the high sun, illuminating the flecks of violet in her iris's. The crowd hissed at the sight of her, their faces snarled like rabid dogs in need of being put down. When he was certain she wouldn't look away, Carington discarded the bag at his feet and turned back to the barking crowd.

"We must free this demon of its pain." My eyes remained glued on Lily, searching for signs of abuse. Every bruise I counted was going to be a second longer I twisted my knife in Carington's back. "Let it suffer no more!" Her complexion was paler than what was normal and she had lost a lot of weight. The ropes at her bruised and scabbing wrists were bound several times to keep her from wiggling free. "Compassion is key," Carington continued. My focus was on the purple swelts on Lily's pallid skin, "even this beast deserves it."

Carington held out his hand and the guard at his side handed him a gun. Lily stiffened at the touch of the barrel placed just above her temple. Her violet-brown eyes fluttered closed as her chapped lips trembled a name. I could see the words form, "Elle."

I grabbed for my own weapon. I could feel Steele's gaze silently scream at me to stick to the plan. The plan was to save Lily, not let Carington blow her brains out. With heightened reflexes I ripped my cloak away and leapt onto the stage. The lone armed guard pointed his gun at my chest. Unfortunately for him I was faster and stronger than he was. He hit the ground before his finger found the trigger.

Within seconds his unaramed companion fell next to him, his blank gaze locked on where I stood. My gun was pointed directly at Senator Penn Carington's forehead. The crowd caught up to speed on the situation before them, their shrieks high as they scattered from the scene. I released the trigger, my arm recoiled as the bullet barreled through its funneled prison. Carington smiled his famous smile. It remained even as he fell bloodied to the ground.

**To read more copy and paste the following link**: s/3163061/1/The-Tainted-Ones


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